They stepped out of the restaurant into the night air, the city humming around them. Angel walked ahead with her hands in her jacket pockets, throwing a little glance over her shoulder every few steps—like she was making sure he was still following, even though she knew damn well he was.
The hotel sat three blocks away, tall enough to ignore the street noise and lit with warm gold panels that made it look richer than anything inside it. Angel walked through the revolving doors first, chin up, like she'd done this a hundred times. Xavier followed her into the marble-floored lobby where everything smelled faintly of polished wood and money.
Angel didn't slow down. She headed straight for the reception desk.
"One suite," she said. "Top floor."
The man behind the counter nodded fast, typing like she'd just handed him a badge instead of a request. He gave them the access card with both hands, almost bowing.
Angel smirked. "Told you. I've got connections everywhere."
